Star Wars

Shadows at Calimos

A deathly chill settled into the station bay, the odd stillness seeming to slow the passage of time around them. Bex knew that with the temperature regulator now severely damaged from the sniper‘s blaster bolt, the room would rapidly grow colder and colder, until it matched the vacuum of space just outside the station walls. No matter, he thought. The bounty killer was still at a disadvantage: Bex’s cloaking device kept his body shrouded, and all the sniper’s skills remained woefully impotent without being able to actually see his target. All the hunter had done was hastened the inevitable outcome, denying Bex any time to continue toying with him. Perhaps that was for the better, he considered, as it was his sadistic streak that had gotten him on the wanted list to begin with. Not that he didn’t enjoy the challenge of murdering the bounty hunters and law enforcers that kept chasing after he and his gang, but this one was different; this one had been violently trailing them since their first run-in on Ord Mantell, and Bex was beginning to run out of men and patience. Bex sneered as he dismissed his musings and shifted away, confident in his invisibility, and stealthily made his way across the catwalk. The sniper was down there somewhere, he knew, and it was only a matter of getting close enough to deliver the final cut. Bex peered over the railing, and took a deep breath to steel himself for the moment to come, the steam from his breath drifting out like a ghost before him.

The steam from his breath.

Bex’s eyes widened at the sudden realization, his legs suddenly ignoring his mental scream to dive for cover. His arms fell slack to his sides, the blade tumbling to the floor. Something was wrong. Why couldn’t he..?

Bex’s body tumbled over the railing, crashing lifelessly onto the metal grating below. There was a moment of cold silence. The bounty killer known as Verger stepped forward from his cover, hidden amid plasteel cargo containers, and ejected the remaining charge from his sniper rifle. It left a trail of ozone as it arced towards the floor, clinking to rest near Bex’s head. Bex’s dull eyes stared forward, the last of his breath mixing with the steam from the glowing red hole burned through his forehead.
Another bounty for Verger, another predictable, logical choice between taking his target dead or alive. He crouched, pulling a scanner from under one of the panels of his cloak, and put it’s holographic light to use confirming the identity of his latest target. When the device was satisfied, a message appeared notifying the hunter that the appropriate amount of credits would be transferred directly to his account. Verger returned the device to it’s place, and picked up the expended charge from the floor. He turned suddenly, the three red lights that served as his eyes glaring intensely out from beneath the shadows of his hood. One of the personnel sensors he’d placed in the hall beyond the sealed bay door had tripped, alerting him to an oncoming presence.

…………………..

“It’s jammed up with something!” shouted the guard, fervently working the computer panel to the right of the door. The captain shouted his reply back with a mixture of excitement and reticence.
“Well, get it open manually, NOW!”
The sealant holding the bay door shut ripped apart, and armed Calimos Station guards flooded into the bay, blasters leveled at the scene before them, expecting a fight. What they got instead was Bex’s solitary body laying tangled at the center of the bay, the dwindling trail of steam above his eye the only other entity in the room.

epilogue 1

Peckham Vyre returns to his junkyard home in his utility speeder, and pulling his goggles back across his greasy grey dreadlocks to take in the hazy twilight sky, walks to his ramshackle, rusted hut carrying a bag of supplies and a walking stick. His clothing is aged and distressed from the difficulty of his self imposed exile in the polluted junkyard, and protective wraps tied about him serve as a minimal attempt to keep the radiation out. His countenance is dirty and unkempt, and he calls for his ever present junkyard dogs, who did not come snarling to greet him at the gate as per usual.
“Scizer! Hey! Scizer! ‘Ere boy!”
He walks inside, past his malfunctioning door, grumbling “Damn door…” as he does so, and makes his way to one of the few relatively clear counters; a basin sink set against a junk laden wall. He calls again for his junkyard companion, this time a bit of concern betraying itself in his voice.
“Scizer? Found an ol’ minkkrat carcass out there, full a stinkin’ bones for yeh! …Where is that mangy beast?“
The dull sound of a drop of liquid on his head his him reaching up to wipe the blue droplet from his forehead, sliding it between his fingers, clearly puzzled.
“What the…”
His pondering are cut off when his gaze follows the next droplet’s path back up to one of the cluttered and rusty metal mesh storage racks above his head, and in his shocked horror his hands involuntarily let go their burdens, dropping his cargo loudly to the grimy floor.
His guard dog and companion hangs crumpled and slung amid the junk, blue slightly luminescent liquid dripping from it’s limp jaw and clouded eyes..
“AAH! SCIZER!” He screams, while unknown to him a terrifying visage suspends itself upside down from the ceiling behind him like a waking mynock, it’s absolutely pale, leering face partially obscured by strands of matted black hair, it’s eyes aglow and face splattered with the same gore that drips from Peckham’s dog, now dried to black. It snares it’s arms around the unwitting Peckham like a wanting spider, and leaps in a twisting, acrobatic spin, launching itself and the captive Peckham across the room, repositioning itself midair to smash it’s helpless victim halfway up a wall in a Force aided assault. It lands on the wall with him, as though the impacted adobe were the floor beneath them.. Peckham, stunned and held by the monster’s considerable strength and innate Force ability, can only attempt to scream, the air forced from his lungs by the impact & blood spattering his lips. The horrifying man crouches over him, apparently unfazed by gravitational impossibility of his position over his prey, pinning Peckham to the wall. It’s black tattered clothing appears slick with pitch, giving it the countenance of a revenant, and it screams in a primal, terrible way directly into Peckham’s face.
“kRRRRYAAAAAAAHHHhhh!!!…”
The specter looks over the captive Peckham, and hints of blue fluid appear in the corners of Peckham’s eyes, the accompanying pain lost to him amid his complete shock. Coming to it‘s conclusion, the creature speaks;
“Kkhhyou’re not hhim! You’re not JEDI…”
Peckham, terrified and desperate, looks past the terrible thing’s gaze, it’s black grimed fingers clamped around his jaw. Over it’s shoulder, his swimming vision lands upon his Lightsaber staff, still out among the junk from the Jedi Sha Feng’s recent visit. He lets his eyes snap back to the creatures…
“*cough*…Wrong.”
Summoning what remains of his decayed will, Peckham strikes out an arm, and reaches out with the force. At his mental command his Yari Lightsaber ignites it’s yellow blade and comes arcing horizontally through the air toward his foe, a humming, spinning, desperate hope.
In an instant the hissing creature pivots out of the way with sick speed and agility before reaching out with the dark side and grabbing the spinning saber, halting it mid-air before force-plunging it past Peckham’s waiting grasp, and into his chest.
Peckham sputters as the creature slowly, still upside down and supernaturally sticking to the wall, crawls forward to admire his work and Peckham’s dying face with a morbid curiosity akin to an animalistic child.
“hhhhYou are not him…but he has been here…rahh…tell me…Where has the Jedi gone?”
Peckham’s agonized face feigns a smile, and forces out his reply.
“*Hrack*…You killed me, cough You killed m’dog. You can go to Hell! Now leave me to die in peace, you wretched, sith-spawned abomination! kaff-kaff”
The man pivots to properly face Peckham, one of it’s clawed hands gripping and twisting the sparking lightsaber’s shaft, while it brings it’s face eerily close to the dying Jedi’s, black veins beginning to rise to surface of it’s pale skin. Sputtering in pain, Peckham begins to shake violently from the effect of the creature‘s presence; the midichlorian fluid in his body being forcibly reaved from his blood as it begins to pour from his eyes, his nose, his mouth, even his pores. The streams of blue liquid begin to almost reach out for the monster.
“…No, Jedi…You will die, but it will not be in peace. ” it hissed, and slowly opens wide it’s terrible black stained mouth, revealing rows of needle sharp teeth, and something that might be akin to the tendrils of a sarrlac begin to writhe hungrily in the darkness of the back of it’s maw.

…

Peckham’s screams resound through the junkyard, through space itself, and in it’s final moments, reach the mind of Sha Feng, meditating in his chamber aboard the Heavenly Fire, attempting to reconstruct his lightsaber which hovers in pieces before him. The mental shockwave washes over him, and the parts of his saber fall, clattering to the floor. He swoons, nearly collapsing atop the now scattered components. In his final, tortured moments, Peckham’s scream carries across the force and serves it’s dire purpose.

It serves as a warning.

…

The creature steps away from the charnel scene, stepping over the toppled obstructions inside the dead man’s home. It moves with satisfied purpose before stopping abruptly just inside the door , as though from some sound only faintly heard, and turns, extending it’s clawed hand back to pinned body on the wall. The lightsaber snaps free from the chest of it’s former wielder, and flies to the commanding black grip of it‘s new master, the carcass husk of Peckham Vyre collapsing in a heap to the grimy floor.
It’s hunger sated for but a moment, the creature considers the weapon, the memories afforded to it by feeding on the old man…but only for a moment, and then the creature is gone, the force itself wounded by his passage.

Embrul and Jayve fend off an assault by a local swoop gang, and Sha Feng defends The Heavenly Fire from imperial entanglements...

Embrul kneels beside the Blind Eye, finishing his inspection of the new starfighter. Jayve, aboard the newly christened Dusty Hawk, continues his self initiated tour of the ancient ship’s interior, finding it’s new namesake to be surprisingly accurate. Cobwebs and Mantellan dust obscure all inside, and Jayve goes about wiping off centuries old grime from archaic screens. Out on the pad, Embrul’s attention is caught by the keening sound of approaching engines, and he stands to see a group of Swoop bikers tear around the insulating wall of the docking bay, and jet towards the landing pad…

Meanwhile, Sha Feng, himself on Ord Manetell for repairs and resupply, walks with purpose up the familiar steps of his ship, Tian Huo (“The Heavenly Fire”). Moments ago, he’d received a suspicious transmission from his protocol droid and companion, J-9. Investigating, Sha Feng discovers the door to the cockpit has been locked from the pilot side, and J-9’s curious behavior continues on the other side. As Sha prepares to forcibly enter the cockpit, Azrai (an Ubese sell-wing whom Sha had been attempting to aid through several skirmishes, and had recently broken out of an Imperial detention center) walked up the steps and into the corridor where Sha stood, taking up a position behind him and leaning up against the wall with typical indifference. Focused on the task at hand, Sha ignored him, and ordered J-9 to open the door one final time. Much to his surprise, the doors quickly snapped open…

Back on the Landing pad, Embrul standsd to confront the swoop gang, which had now stopped just short of him and his ship, and were dismounting from their bikes. After a terse and uninformative conversation, the riders attack the lone exiled noble, and find that he is anything but easy prey. Launching into the air to evade their blaster fire, Embrul lands and in a blur of motion makes short work of a group of the invaders.
Wiping his hands of the ship’s grime, Jayve casually walks down the landing steps of the Hawk, unaware of the battle going on just outside. Startled by the sudden violence, Jayve drops his rag and deftly draws his blaster, ducking behind the landing struts in a vain effort to remain unnoticed. Two gangers jump on their swoops and rocket towards Javye, exchanging shots with him and screaming wildly. Jayve backs up the steps and slams the door controls to raise the steps as he runs all the way to the ship’s guns. He only just arrives and begins his way down the gun port ladder when he hears the roar of a swoop engine and the maniac screaming of the swoop gang lt. ramping up the docking bay steps and into the closing ship bay doors just before it slams shut beside him. The gang lt. shouts sadistic challenges as he gathers himself and begins stalking through the cargo bay to find his target…
…

For a split second, Sha Feng’s considerable calm wavers as he is confronted by the scene of J-9 surrounded by a trio of Imperial Agents clad in black, form fitting infiltrator’s armor, his core processor connected to a transportable data siphon carried by one of the agents. Startled by the droid’s ability to defy their commands despite the multiple restraining bolts, the Imperial agents raise their rifles and demand the Kel Dor surrender himself to the Empire. The entanglement is further complicated by the unexpected high pitch whine of a blaster rifle priming behind his back. Azrai Veru stands behind him, blaster rifle pointed straight at the Jedi’s back.
“Sorry Pal. They arrived right before you did.”

…

Embrul Darshan spins out of the path of a lance of blaster bolts and replies with a focused barrage of ripostes, the Force answering the summons of his will and aiding the exile’s devastating counterattacks. In one movement, he drops his immediate attackers and turns to the remaining bikers, and with a gesture overtakes weak minded Trandoshan swoop gang leader, calmly telling him “It’s time for you to go.”…

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

The Heroes land on Ord Mantell, In junkyard district of the city of Worlport. Embrul D’arshan debarking from the ship that dropped him off (wherein he has employed the Ubese “co-pilot” as a temporary body guard) and walks across the dusty landing pad to meet up with Jayve Arcwell aboard The Nomad. The two decide to strip the Nomad’s interior of valuables and sell the ill-gotten freighter, and in doing so discover a small crate wrapped in a metallic sensor-barring blanket. Upon investigating they discover the crate has an encrypted lock and a recently painted Rebel insignia painted on it. They decide to stow it for now, and continue looting. (the only valuables they decide to keep are two data pads, one of which is Rando’s bounty hunting journal, and the other is a list of his contracts and possible blackmail information on his clients in case any of them try to double-cross him.)

Ord Mantell.

The heroes gather the goods in a hover crate and the Ubese meets up with them to guide them to the Trader’s District wherein they re-supply at a pawn and dealer shop called the Aqueous Gem, wherein they meet the Nautolan tekker/shop keeper Ina Swento (whom Embrul recognizes as being mildly force sensitive) who quickly takes a liking to the pair, and after some dealing and conversation offers to ask her boss to sponsor the credit and work-hungry Jayve if he would enter the Blockade Runners Derby in order to promote the store (which has been getting a bad rep due to someone spreading slander), as most off-world entrants need a sponsor in order to enter due to Ord Mantell‘s favoring of it‘s native racers. Ina herself favors the odds on a Human named Han Solo who won the race 2 years before, but the local buzz places the win on a racer she referred to as “Oto”. (also, it is mentioned that lately the dangerous race has taken on an even more “accident-prone” slant as more high-dollars sponsors have entered.) As the heroes will need a ship to enter, she recommends them to a ship dealer (Abisho’s Emporium) that won’t try to cheat them too badly. A dusty Ord Mantell spaceport, with Worlport in the distance.

There, Jayve buys a possibly 3,000 year old Archaic XS Light Freighter from the shipyard/junkyard, which is owned by a crass Toydarian dealer named Abisho and dubs it the The Dusty Hawk II. Embrul buys a Mankvim-B14 Light Interceptor and dubs it The Blind Eye. Jayve turns down an offer to fly the race under Abisho’s sponsorship, citing that he’s already racing for Ina’s shop. Scoffing at this, Abisho (mildly insulted) rescinds his offer of sponsorship and continues haggling prices with the two, settling on taking the Nomad along in trade for the junker XS, telling the two that he will come to get the nomad from the docking bay in an hour to give them time to prep it for transport. Jayve hires Ina to use a light disintegrator tool to remove any identifying marks from the Nomad (a curious act, as the Nomad itself is a completely unique and custom ship.) Abisho arrives and makes a few rude remarks, hinting at Ina being a former dancer at the casinos, and possibly a slave. The ships are swapped, and the Mankvim delivered, leaving the heroes to begin repairs and upgrades on their new shining (or in Jayve’s case, rusted and derelict) transports.

Worplort’s tourist district

Meanwhile, a lone starfighter warps into the system, disengages from its hyperdrive docking ring, and lands discreetly in the junkyard outlying the city of Worlport. The dark red hooded pilot disembarks from the ship, and activates a portable holoprojector to inform a shrouded man of his progress…